


and the moonbeams kiss the sea

by kay_el



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 08:04:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6110335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_el/pseuds/kay_el
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Phasma & Lt. Cmdr. Tora Lylin (OC) have an amorous encounter after getting riled up & sweaty in the gym on the Finalizer. Feat. gratuitous oral sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and the moonbeams kiss the sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluespacemom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluespacemom/gifts).



The Finalizer of the First Order was never silent. There was always footfalls of ‘troopers, or the blaring of sirens, or the beeping of droids. But right here, in this particular corner of this particular hallway, the galaxy narrowed down to two women and the air they shared. The heat of their bodies and the ever-present hum of the ship’s engines, that was all.

These few stolen moments after a mandatory session in the flagship’s gym, running on adrenaline and heavy-handed lust.

 

Two weeks ago, Lt. Cmdr. Tora Lylin kissed Captain Phasma for the first time.

Two weeks later, and every smile, every climax, every brush of skin-on-skin, still managed to leave Tora perpetually aflame.

She fucking loved it.

 

The pair of mouths met, and Tora could feel the air leave her body, an eternal gasp of lust and disbelief that made the blood pound in her ears and her eyes flutter shut—overwhelmed. Every time. Phasma hummed, low in her chest, almost like a growl, and bit at Tora’s bottom lip until she opened for her. Phasma’s hands bracketed Tora’s hips, fingers digging bruise-hard along her waist. Tora’s hands, in response, slid up, brushing against the sides of Phasma’s loose t-shirt before sliding up, under, finding the swell of her breasts restrained by the webbing of her sports bra, still damp from her workout. She breathed out loudly into the space between their lips before kissing Phasma again, her fingers exploring the way that Phasma’s kisses grew needier, less coordinated, the longer that Tora’s hands explored her body. Phasma’s mouth left Tora’s, trailing down her neck, biting less-than-gently at her neck, leaving warm purple marks on her brown skin.

“Oh, Phasma, please,” Tora gasped, tilting her head back against the wall, mouth wet and open.

Phasma paused, mouth hovering just over the hollow of Tora’s throat. “Please what?”

“ _Touch me_.”

Instead of answering, Phasma kissed her again. And again. And again. While her hands tugged down Tora’s regulation sweatpants, letting the black fabric fall to the floor. Her shirt followed, tugged over her head and cast to the side as Phasma’s fingertips began an indulgent exploration of Tora’s now-broad span of bare skin, warm and brown and still gleaming with sweat from exercising. Phasma ducked her head, kissing the space between Tora’s breasts, then each nipple, teasing them with her teeth until Tora whimpered. From there, it was kisses, down along the folds of her stomach, until Phasma was folded down to her knees, worshiping Tora’s torso with the same steely determination she gave to everything she set her mind to, and all Tora could do was hold on. And, somehow, remember to keep breathing as this Amazon of blonde and silver peppered her hips now, with teasing bites and marks.

 

And then she paused, and Tora did actually remember to breathe for a moment.

 

Phasma slid her hands down the backs of Tora’s thighs, looking up from between her legs with hooded eyes.

“Tell me you want this,” she said. Her fingernails were sharp, biting crescents in the soft skin behind Tora’s knees. She pressed a shockingly delicate kiss to the white cotton of Tora’s panties—her eyes slipped closed as Phasma’s warm, wet breath ghosted over her. Tora let out a shuddering sigh.

“Please,” Tora rasps, already slack-jawed and breathing heavy. “I want this—god, Phasma, please.”

Phasma smiled, a flash of teeth in the dim stairwell, and scraped her nails along the inside of Tora’s calf, making the muscles jump. She slid Tora’s panties down her quivering legs. They fell to the floor with the rest of her clothes, and Phasma pushed them away impatiently, situating herself back with her head between Tora’s thighs. Even on her knees, she kept Tora immobile, pressed up against the wall, hands in loose, useless fists at her sides.

Phasma’s hands were strong, rough, calloused, on the back of Tora’s thighs as she lifts her up, spreading her legs, resting each thigh on Phasma’s broad shoulders. Phasma sighed in pleasure, balancing Tora’s weight between her shoulders and the wall, and leaned forward. She kissed the dark trail of hair that lead from Tora’s belly button to her pussy, humming in pleasure.

“Please,” Tora whispered again, rocking her hips in vain. Resting as she was, Tora could only depend on Phasma’s holding her weight, leaving her waiting, bracing herself by crossing her calves across her lover’s back.

Phasma pushed her face forward, taking more of Tora’s weight as she dove into her wet pussy. She pressed her flat tongue to Tora’s pussy lips, dragging her mouth across the hot, wet surface of her pussy. Getting Tora’s taste on her tongue, until her whole world had narrowed down to dark hair and warm brown skin and the heavy breathing from above, echoing in their dark alcove. Face already getting wet, Phasma’s tongue covered Tora’s pussy, tasted every part of her desperate wetness before zeroing in on her clit and sucking at it greedily.

Tora’s breath caught in her throat, hands sliding down to cradle Phasma’s face, caress her sharp cheekbones. Phasma continued to suck and tease her clit as Tora gasped in pleasure. Phasma came up for air, looking up at Tora’s face—her own face glistening wetly in the nearby clinical glow of lights from the hallway.

“Fuck,” Tora whined, thighs tightening around Phasma’s head and cutting off any peripheral view Phasma may have had.

“More?” Phasma’s voice was rough as Tora’s fingers pushed into Phasma’s blonde hair.

Tora huffed—half amusement, half frustration. “Phasma, please.”

Phasma smirked and licked another stripe down Tora’s pussy. “I love that you beg for it so quick,” she murmured, turning her head to suck kisses along Tora’s thighs where they framed her face.

Soon enough, she dove back to work, sucking diligently at Tora’s pussy lips, exploring every fold of her warm, wet cunt wit her lips and tongue. Tora let out a strangled moan as Phasma found her clit again and began teasing it mercilessly.

“Yes, like that,” Tora moaned, almost incoherent. Her hips rocked, as much as they could, to press her face closer to Phasma’s mouth.

Phasma’s hands had been supporting (and caressing) Tora’s ass and thighs, but now one hand slid down, palming the curve of Tora’s asscheek, between her legs, to push into Tora’s soaked pussy.

Tora let out a moan, and a gasp, and then she was coming, her come slicking up Phasma’s fingers and letting her fingerfuck Tora’s cunt deeper as she continued to lick her. Tora whined at the stimuli against her now sensitive clit, but Phasma showed no signs of stopping, swallowing the warm wetness that met her with every open-mouthed kiss.

Slowly, Phasma added another finger to pump into Tora’s cunt, curling them slowly as she fucked her, searching for her g-spot.

Each leisurely thrust of Phasma’s fingers made Tora grind forward, pushing her pussy onto Phasma’s face and down onto her fingers. She whined loudly as Phasma nipped and sucked her clit, orgasming again, it seemed, before she had even recovered from the first.

Phasma licked her way down to her fingers as Tora came again. Tora’s head rested back against the wall as she gasped and whimpered her way through it. Tora’s thighs tightened around Phasma’s head as she moaned, and Phasma, covered with the fruits of her labor, opened her mouth further, swallowing more of that wetness. She pressed her tongue up into Tora’s aching pussy and licked the liquid from her own fingers, which were still thrusting up into Tora.

Tora’s hips stuttered, her breasts bouncing with each labored gasp.

Phasma pulled her fingers out, replacing them with her tongue and holding onto Tora’s bare thigh with her hand, leaving sticky wet fingerprints on Tora’s flushed, overheated skin. Tora was still breathing hard, thighs pressed so close around Phasma’s head that Phasma could feel Tora’s body quivering.

“Phasma,” she gasped, like a prayer in an empty church. “Phasma, fuck.”

“You taste so good,” Phasma replied, still leaving small licks and kisses, taking little tastes of Tora’s pliant, warm pussy.

Tora moaned again, helpless and out of breath, and her thighs tensed around Phasma’s neck. ‘Fuck, okay, you can’t just say things, okay.”

Phasma grinned and looked up at Tora, pressing distracted kisses to the curve of Tora’s belly. “I can’t say things?”

“No!” Tora bit her lip as Phasma returned her kissing to Tora’s curly pubic hair and further down, to her over-stimulated clit. “Not when you’re covered in my come, okay, oh my god.” She ran her fingers through Phasma’s short hair, curling it behind her ears and off her damp forehead. “I mean, damn,” she moaned, and her breathing hitched, as Phasma’s tongue continued its onslaught. “Your voice is enough to make me come again, at this point.”

Phasma raised her eyebrows, pausing in her ministrations. “And I suppose my mouth on your cunt has nothing to do with it?”

Tora laughed, and then gasped, tightening her fingers in Phasma’s hair and rocking forward, almost surprised as another orgasm overtook her.

“Enough,” she whined, tugging at Phasma’s hair. “Phasma, please, I surrender to your superior cunnilingus skills, stop.”

Phasma pulled back, licking her lips contentedly. She nodded up at Tora, hands sliding up to lift her thighs up and off Phasma’s shoulders. The gentle roughness of her grip still made Tora shiver slightly—as did the way that Phasma rose, almost cat-like, from her knees to once again tower over her. Tora tilted her head up to meet Phasma’s lips in a wet kiss that tasted like musky arousal, mouths open and careless as they met.

“You should probably clean your face off.”

Phasma smiled. “As much as I would like to wear you like this always, I have to agree,” and Tora whined a little, leaning forward to rest her face against Phasma’s collarbone, mouthing a kiss to her breasts in the process. “That’s not something I want to have to explain to the armory.”

“No, probably not,” Tora laughed lightly, stepping back just enough so she could lean up and kiss Phasma again. “I’ll see you later?”

Phasma looked at her thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. “Maybe next time we can try sparring.”

Tora watched her walk away with wide eyes. “Was that a euphemism?” She called after her, but was only answered by Phasma’s quiet laughter echoing down the hallway.


End file.
